The Finding Symphony
by FiveForFighting09
Summary: Sequal to The Leaving Rhapsody. Tim is still looking. Gibbs is trying to help. But in searching for what is lost, both find things along the way that they hadn't even known they were searching for.
1. Chapter 1

The Finding Symphony

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to other luckier people than I. The only thing I own is Probie. Who is at the moment chewing on my shoe.

A/N: This story is set after _The Leaving Rhapsody_. I highly recommend you do read that one before you try reading this. Everything will make a lot more sense that way.

**Finding:** _to locate, attain, or obtain by search or effort; to recover something lost or misplaced_

**Symphony:** _Something characterized by a harmonious combination of elements._

McGee glanced down at his almost full grown dog, "You know, your predecessor was not such a pain in my behind." McGee tried once to grab the leash out of Probie's mouth.

They were at the dog park, McGee having a greatly needed and greatly appreciated day off. He had lounged around the house till noon, before heading to his agent's office. The meeting with the publishing company had taken longer than expected so by the time Tim had gotten home, it had been a quarter till five.

Knowing that he didn't get a lot of days "off", he had quickly grabbed Probie's collar and gone on a run, heading to the local dog park where his German Shepherd could really stretch his legs and run.

But the sun had started to set and, knowing Abby was coming over for dinner at eight, McGee knew he had to get home soon so he could shower and start dinner.

"Come on buddy," Tim continued to follow Probie around, sighing in exasperation, "You are going to get me in trouble."

Probie, who seemed to find this whole situation amusing, continued to walk around, making a weaving but steady path towards the dog park's entrance gates.

"Crap," Tim muttered and tried once more to grab Probie's leash. When his dog avoided his outstretched hands once more, McGee called out.

"Probie, come."

The usually obedient German Shepherd didn't even flinch when McGee spoke but instead, started walking all that more quickly towards the gates.

"Hey!" McGee tried to call out to the couple holding the gate open, "Close-"

But Probie was too quick and in a flash, he was out the gate doors and heading toward the main roads.

"Probie!" McGee upped his speed, knowing that with the sun setting, dusk would be the hardest time for drivers to see his dog.

Running after his dog, McGee narrowly avoided collisions with mothers pushing their babies in strollers and the occasional roller-skater.

"Probie!" Tim called out once more but to no avail. Probie was a man-er…dog on a mission and not even his frantic owner was going to stop him.

Knowing that Probie was only a few yards away from a busy street, Tim turned on his after burners, feeling his heart beat even faster in his body.

And Tim realized that all of a sudden, ever moment seemed to slow down like those cheap action movies that DiNozzo had loved so long ago.

In one moment, Probie was jogging towards the streets intersection and Tim was in the air.

In the next, Tim had his hand wrapped around the end of his dog's leash.

And finally, in the last moment, Tim was pulling his dog back, hard, hoping that it would be enough…

Tim closed his eyes but opened them moments later when Probie gave him a lick on the check.

"You stupid, stupid, knuckleheaded dog," Tim sighed in relief, hugging his dog to his chest, "I should send you to a glue factory. Or send you to the pound for a day, to see how the other side lives." McGee rearranged his hold on Probie's leash, making sure that this time the lead was firmly in his grip, "Just what the heck were you so intent on following?"

Recieving only a lick and a look of guilt from his dog, McGee shook his head.

"Let's go-" Tim stopped talking to his dog and turned, feeling a small hand tap him on his shoulder.

"Yes ma'am?" Tim asked the frazzled looking woman who was fidgeting with her car keys.

"Is your dog okay? I mean, I didn't see him sir, I would have stopped, it's just, the sun is setting and you know how they say more accidents happen at dusk because drivers can see much with the glare of the sun and it getting darker and I just heard the horns but I didn't see-"

"Ma'am," Tim said, placing a calming hand on the younger woman's arm, "Thank you so much for stopping but really, he's fine. And it wasn't your fault. If anything, it was mine. I let him get away from me."

The woman, who McGee pegged as the type to worry about everything, sighed in relief, "That's good. I'm-um, I'm Samantha by the way."

"Tim," McGee introduced himself, his hand moving from her forearm to her hand, "And thank you again for stopping."

Samantha lost a bit of her nervousness, "Well, it was just, I have a cat of my own and if anyone had almost hit him I would only hope…" Samantha trailed off glancing back at her car which was parked a bit haphazardly on the side of the road.

Tim smiled, "Well, thanks once again but if I don't hurry, I'm going to be late and-"

"I can drive you there," Samantha said quickly, the look on her face showing that not even she believed she had just spoken, "I mean, if you need to get there quickly, I don't have anywhere to be."

"Are you sure?" Tim said, "You don't mind my crazy dog?"

"It would be my pleasure," Samantha said, "From now on; I will always be the crazy girl who almost knocked your dog into the next county."

Tim and Samantha laughed before Tim got in her car, making sure Probie was settled in the back seat.

"Lay down," Tim said, watching as Probie did as he was told.

"Crazy mutt," McGee muttered before turning to Samantha, "And thanks for the ride. I didn't realize how far Probie had gotten."

"Probie?" Samantha smiled, "I've never heard that name. But that's cool. Um, where do you live?"

Tim told her, before turning back to Probie who was dozing on Samantha's bench seat.

"You know," Samantha said a few minutes later, "You could get him a reflective vest or something, I mean, just in case this sort of thing happens again. My brother always used to take one when he went hunting, to make sure other people could see him."

Tim agreed with her, "You're right, and I usually put one on him if we go out at night, it's just I didn't think we would be there till dusk…" Tim trailed off.

Samantha looked at McGee, not saying anything at his sudden quietness.

"Well I guess this is it," Samantha said, "Now I can't wait to tell my husband how my day went."

Tim, having come back from wherever his brain had decided to wander off to, opened his door before going to the back and grabbing Probie's leash. He walked around the car, leaning down slightly.

"Thank you so much," Tim smiled, "Now I won't be late."

Samantha smiled, "Least I could do."

Tim smiled once more, waiving to a girl he would probably never see again. After all he had seen, all the evil people could do, he sometimes forgot that people also did nice and caring things out of the goodness of their hearts.

"Come on Probie," McGee tugged on his dog's collar, "Let's take a shower before Abby comes over and tries to clean us with her chemicals instead."

As if knowing what atrocities would be in store for him if he didn't listen, Probie barked once and followed his master up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First, I would like to thank all those who reviewed and also all those who are lurking (I know you are there); Secondly, I would like to apologize for the wait. This was originally intended to be posted much earlier but I went two weeks without a reliable internet connection- believe me, I pained me just as much as you. **

**Thank you pheonix on cloud nine for the beta. Also, I hope everyone is enjoying the new year and I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas. **

**Finally, barring any complications, next update should be in a few days. :)**

* * *

Chapter Two

McGee rolled over slowly, feeling another warm body in his bed.

"Wha?" he lifted his head and opened his eyes as a wet tongue licked his face.

"Probie," McGee huffed, turning his face away. Glancing at the clock, he sighed, rubbing his face.

It was too early to get up but if McGee didn't hurry, he was going to be late.

"You still don't get enough sleep."

"Ahh!" McGee yelled, rolling out of the bed and falling unceremoniously to the floor.

Tony, who had been sitting on the chair across from Tim's bed, leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, before letting out a loud laugh.

"Probie, you scream like a girl," Tony smiled, still not moving.

McGee, who finally moved around enough to release himself from the hold his blankets had on him, "You-I-but-where," McGee stuttered, still looking at the man sitting in his chair, "I-"

"A cornerstone for communication Probie, is actually speaking in complete sentences," Tony smirked. He stayed seated though, staring at Tim who was still gaping from the floor.

"You," McGee takes a deep breath, making sure he knows what he's going to say before he says it, "You left. I haven't seen you in months."

"You keeping track?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. He hadn't moved yet and even though Tim knew in his heart that this isn't Tony, not the real Tony anyway, it still unnerved him to see the former Senior Agent so…still.

"Why did you leave before?" Tim asked quietly, ignoring Tony's mock question. He's going to be late for sure now, but Tim didn't really care. Not now anyway.

Tony frowned at the statement and bit his lower lip in thought before answering McGee's question.

"I thought I wouldn't have to come back."

"What?" Tim asked, using his forearms to help him sit on the bed. Probie, who had been lying on the bed, crawled over and laid his head on Tim's lap.

"You know what I mean," Tony said, still not moving, "And I'm not going to insult you by repeating myself."

"You wouldn't-I don't," Tim silently cursed. Why did he always seem to stutter when he had to talk to Tony?

"Complete sentences Probie," Tony repeated, standing. He glanced around McGee's apartment, noting that Tim's room was a bit askew, "Told you, you need more sleep."

"It's been a tough week," Tim answered, getting up and heading towards the restroom, "Besides, I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Tony laughed at that statement and even though Tim didn't look back to face the man, Tim could see in his mind's eye the slightly haunted look that Tony frequently wore.

And for the first time since he had started seeing Tony, Tim briefly wondered if Tony was actually haunting him.

"We got a lead," Gibbs walked by Tim's desk, heading towards Abby's lab.

"Um, what?" McGee glanced up from his paperwork. They currently didn't have any active cases.

"A lead McGee, get Ziva and Wilson and get your ass to Abby's lab," Gibbs sipped coffee as the elevator doors closed.

Tim ran through his mental check list, making sure that he hadn't forgotten that they were actually _investigating_ something.

Then, as Tim stood, it hit him.

They didn't have any active cases. Gibbs said they had a lead.

"Tony," Tim whispered before heading to the break room where Ziva and Wilson were bound to be. He didn't want to call them and he knew that the quickest way for him to get to Abby's lab with his junior agents in tow was to drag them there himself.

"So," Abby said, clicking away at her computer, "I was ahead with work and stuff, and normally I'll backlog some of our earlier cases but this morning, when I was getting ready, I had this weird thought so after I made sure-"

"Abby," McGee cut the forensic scientist off, "Please."

"Oh course," Abby said, looking as if she could barely contain herself, "Well I was thinking. When we were searching for Tony, we only looked for a Tony DiNozzo."

"That is his name Abbs," McGee said, watching and trying to see exactly what Abby was doing. But Gibbs was blocking his view and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see the screen or Abby's hands.

"Well," Abby said, turning around and looking at McGee, "Not his only one."

"What?" McGee said, looking to the other members of the team to see if they found Abby's ramblings as outlandish as he did. Surprisingly, neither Ziva nor Gibbs batted an eye at Abby's statement. Even Wilson, who was rocking nervously on his heels in the background didn't open his mouth and ask a billion questions like he had the tendency of doing.

"What do you mean Abby?" Tim asked, since none of the team members seemed to be particularly interested in interrupting her.

"He went by another name," Abby said, "An Anthony DiNardo to be exact."

Tim opened and closed his mouth, looking much like a fish out of water, before finally speaking, "But, he-wouldn't-"

"Full sentences McGee," Gibbs said calmly, turning so he was fully facing McGee, "Can't communicate without them."

Remembering Ghost Tony's words from this morning, Tim's eyes widen slightly before shrugging off the coincidence, "I meant to say," Tim slowed his speech, using a few techniques the various speech therapists had taught him when he was younger and his stutter had actually been classified as a speech impairment, "If Tony had used that alias, wouldn't it have shown up somewhere? And another thing, why would Tony _want_ to use an alias? I thought we had decided that he hadn't abandoned us."

"With what proof?" Gibbs asked, "What proof do we have that he didn't actually just leave us all here, without a backwards glance?"

"Boss!" Tim said, outraged but his self-control working full tilt to keep his emotions in check, "You-you know Tony wouldn't do that!"

"But he's lied before," Abby said quietly, "When he was undercover. He didn't tell anyone about his other life then. If he's done it once, he wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Abby," Tim turned, looking at the forensic scientist, "I know it doesn't look right, that we haven't been able to find anything-"

"You're wrong," Abby whispered, barely holding back her tears, "I told Gibbs I had a lead."

"You-what?" Tim tried looking at the screen again but Abby's body blocked it, "What lead?"

"I searched all the databases for Anthony DiNardo," Abby said quietly, her voice holding the slight tremor of impending tears, "And I found him."

Upon hearing those words, Tim felt as if someone had suddenly grabbed his heart and simultaneously squeeze and electrified it.

"What?" Tim breathed, holding the back of Abby's chair for support, knowing if he let go he wouldn't be able to hold himself up.

"He's living in California," Abby said, turning back to the screen, "At a beach house. Has been for almost three years."

"No, he…" Tim tried once again to look at the screen but was stopped by Gibbs' hand on his shoulder, "Boss he wouldn't-"

"He was never missing McGee," Gibbs said quietly, "He just didn't want to be found."

"No," Tim shook his head. He couldn't - for Tony to be okay, to be safe and living a nice life in a freaking beach house across the country while all along his friends - while HE had worried about him, "He wouldn't do that Boss."

"There's your proof Tim," Gibbs said sadly, "Now let's go back to work."

Tim watched as Gibbs, Ziva and Wilson rode the elevator back up to the office. He turned and watched as Abby wiped her eyes angrily before going to her office and closing the door hard.

And then it was just him, sitting on the floor of Abby's lab, wondering if this what being found felt like and if Tony had ever really been his friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all those who read the last chapter and an extra thank you to those who take the time to review. :) They are very much appreciated.**

**On another note, the most exciting thing happened to me this weekend. I found a license plate with my initals on it! :O **

**Anyway, on to the story. :)**

* * *

Chapter Three

"Wake up McGee."

"Come on Timmy, open those eyes for me."

"Probie, wake up already."

"Wha?" Tim rolled over, glancing at the clock. He had to hurry; he was going to be late-

Wait a minute…

Tim shot out of bed, hurrying towards his office and quickly looking at his calendar.

"I don't understand," Tim spoke out loud. Today was Monday. But yesterday had been Monday, yesterday he had _found_ Tony and had then proceeded to get extremely drunk, watching old movies. But today was Monday and yesterday was Monday and Tim knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was _not_ hungover.

"Crazy crazy dreams," Tony strolled in, a smile on his face, "Hmm….That sounds like a song," Tony moved his head to some unknown rhythm before starting to hum.

"You!" Tim said, "You, I-I found-Abby found you! Why are you still here?"

Tony stopped humming, tilting his head to the side slightly, "What are you talking about Probie-wan-kanobe?"

"Yesterday," McGee said, "I went to work and Abby had a lead. She had searched for Anthony DiNardo and found you living in a beach house in California. I called them and they said that you were working at the surf shop, that you had been there for three years-"

"Me?" Tony said, a smirk on his face and his eye holding a great amount of mischief, "Not much of the surfer type. Too old for that."

"But I called!" Tim said, totally flustered, "Your boss answered-"

"How did Abby find me again Probie?" Tony asked, cutting off McGee mid-rant, "What did she say?"

"That she had gone in that morning and finished her work so she searched for your alias."

"Uhuh," Tony said, nodding, a smile still on his face, "Now, I know I'm not the smartest one on the team but really Timmy, if I know something sounds hinky, I know for sure so do you."

McGee squinted in thought, trying to clear his head of any cobwebs.

Tony rolled his eyes, chuckling good naturedly, "Think McBrains. What is wrong with that statement?"

Tim thought and sighed in relief moments later, sitting down on the couch when he realized just what was wrong with Abby's statement, "It would have taken days for the search engine to find you in California. And even then, the second you used that alias for anything it would have been red-flagged back to us. We would have known years ago. It would have come up when we first started looking for you."

Tony nodded, "Nice job Probie. Always knew your brain would take you far."

"So it was a dream?" Tim asked, rubbing his face, "'Cause that was more like a nightmare."

Tony walked closer to Tim, avoiding Probie, the dog, and his toys, "Why Tim? You had found me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Not like that," Tim shook his head, scratching his head, "That - it felt like you had betrayed us all."

"But I was okay," Tony sat down, a mournful look on his face, "And I was found. Why weren't you okay with that?"

"Because!" Tim said, throwing his arms up in frustration, "You left us without a word edgewise! You were living the life in some beach city or another selling surf boards and relaxing in the sun all day while all of us were here, not knowing…You didn't even care to send us a note, send us _something_ to tell us where you were!"

"So you don't want me to be happy?" Tony asked, tilting his head again. Tim tried to remember if the real Tony had ever done that or if that was simply a quirk Tim had given his Ghost version of Tony.

"No - I," Tim said but stopped. He realized that he had never thought about it. Did he want Tony to be happy and living somewhere else, but happy nonetheless? Or did he want Tony to be miserable and hurt or worse - dead?

"I want you to be happy Tony," Tim finally sad, "But the Tony I knew wouldn't put his happiness in front of his friendship with me, Abby and the rest of the team."

"Really?" Tony smirked, "We are still talking about me right? The guy who loved teasing you every moment and who never let you live anything down? Or the guy who always loved giving you the short end of the stick, just so he could laugh about it in front of you? We still talking about that guy McGee?"

"You sound like a jerk if you talk about yourself that way Tony," Tim responded. Tony had done all those things, many times, but that wasn't who Tony was. Tony didn't-

"If the shoe fits Probie," Tony huffed, rolling his eyes, "Come on McBrain, I know I didn't train a retard."

"That's just it," McGee took another step towards DiNozzo, "That's why you did all those things. You poked and prodded and pushed and shoved because if you hadn't, someone else who have done it instead and they might not have been as nice or non-criminal as you were."

Tony smiled, a coy smile that usually meant he was about to do something that made him uncomfortable, "Don't know what you're talking about McGee."

Tim smiled, knowing that the real Tony rarely ever got truly embarrassed. Even though this wasn't the real Tony, a fact that Tim had to keep reminding himself, it was still fun to see.

"Whatever Tony," McGee laughed. Just then, Probie walked in, looking at his owner as if he had seriously lost it.

And considering he was having a conversation with someone who was technically not there, maybe Tim had a screw or two lose.

"You might want to get dressed Probie," Tony said, breaking Tim out of his thoughts, "It is after all, a Monday."

"Crap!" Tim turned quickly, tripping over Probie and barely catching himself before he busted his face open.

Probie let out a surprise yelp, tucking his tail in and retreating over to fit his large body under the coffee table.

"Sorry boy, sorry!" Tim called out, still trying to find his cell phone so he could see what time it was.

Probie let out a small whine, deciding to stay nice and safe until his owner stopped acting weird.

"Ah!" Tim yelled out fumbling with his phone as it vibrated, mildly scaring him.

"AHHH!" Tim yelled even louder, seeing the time and realizing that the reason his phone was vibrating was due to the fact his Boss was calling him.

Knowing that if his death wasn't already sealed it would be if he didn't answer the phone, McGee hit the accept button and cringed in anticipation.

"Where the hell are you McGee?" Gibbs yelled over the phone.

"I-" McGee tried to answer but Gibbs just cut him off.

"No, don't tell me McGee," Gibbs continued to yell, "Just get your ass here in the next ten minutes or I will kill you. Understood?"

"Yes Boss," McGee said, setting his phone down before hurrying to his room.

Exactly five minutes later, McGee was putting on his last shoe on his way to the counter to grab his phone and keys. He pulled up short however, when he saw Tony still seated in his living room.

"Thought you left," McGee called out, knowing that if he didn't leave in the next minute he would never make it to the office in time. But he would risk that, to listen to the last thing Tony had to say.

Tony smiled at the comment, shrugged and relaxed into the chair, "Not for long Probie."

And McGee just huffed before giving Probie a quick goodbye pat and walking out the door.

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**A/N2: :) Please review. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: As promised. :)**

* * *

Chapter Four

"You're late again, McGee, and I'll superglue you pants to your desk chair."

"Yes Boss," McGee said, keeping his head down as he sat down, "Won't happen again."

Gibbs just huffed, lifting his coffee cup to hide the small smile on his face. He knew, by the look on Ziva and even McGee's faces, that they remembered the last time McGee had been super glued to something.

"I'm sure it won't McGee," Gibbs said before picking up his desk phone when it let out a shrill ring.

"Gibbs. Yeah. Alright," Gibbs hung up, opening his bottom desk drawer to retrieve his badge and gun. His fingers brushed the other set in his drawer. He contained the small sigh, instead yelling at his team.

"Dead sailor," Gibbs said, "Wilson, get Ducky, Ziva, get the car."

"And me Boss?" McGee asked, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder.

Instead of answering, Gibbs just smirked in McGee's direction before walking out of the bullpen.

"Hit and Run," Wilson said, surveying the scene in front of him.

"Looks like it," McGee said, from where he was squatting down taking pictures of the mangled sailor. He glanced at Ziva to see what she would have to say about it but caught Gibbs' glare instead.

"But- um, we won't know for sure until we've processed the scene and Ducky's gotten a look at the body, Wilson," McGee said, wincing slightly when Gibbs gave him a head slap, "Sorry Boss."

"Never assume anything Wilson," Gibbs glared lightly at the Probie of the team, making sure he got his rule across, "Got it?"

"Yes Boss," Wilson nodded before lowering his gaze back down to the sketch book.

Gibbs stared at Wilson for a second longer, before looking at his senior field agent. McGee was a bit twitchy today, had been since he had arrived at the bullpen almost an hour late.

"Ziva, make sure you walk the perimeter. Tim, don't forget the tire marks," Gibbs watched each member nod before continuing on with their own designated tasks. Seeing Ducky and Palmer finally arrive on scene, Gibbs walked over to the ME and his assistant.

"Hey, Duck," Gibbs said, "Dead sailor's over there. Half of him anyway."

"Oh my," Ducky said. He walked over to the body and examined it, "You know Jethro, this reminds me of that one time in Germany. A poor old-"

"Duck."

"Ah yes, another time I'm afraid," Ducky reached into the sailor's back pocket, "Wallet, Jethro."

"Thanks, Ducky," Jethro flipped the wallet opened, seeing the dead man's Navy ID and Driver's License.

"Dwayne, with me," Gibbs yelled, walking to the Charger.

Dwayne handed his sketch pad over to Ziva before hurrying to follow his Boss.

"Where are we going Boss?" Wilson asked, slipping into the car and buckling up.

"His house," Gibbs said, "It's just down the street. Bag the wallet."

Wilson's face fell slightly, "Do we have-" He stopped mid-sentence, seeing the look gave Gibbs gave him.

"Yes Boss," Wilson nodded, placing the dead sailor's wallet into a bag before labeling it. That done, he glanced at Gibbs, wondering why the team leader had yet to leave the crime scene.

"Well?" Gibbs said, gesturing to the bagged wallet.

"Oh!" Wilson hopped out of the car quickly, taking the wallet back to McGee so he could process it.

Wilson turned and, surprised to see the car still waiting for him, hurried back to the shotgun seat.

"You sure you don't want McGee to come Boss?" Wilson asked as they were leaving the site.

"Nope," Gibbs shook his head, not taking his eyes off the road. He heard his agent let out a small sigh but decided to not call him on it.

There was a chance, as Wilson probably knew, that this could turn out extremely sad if anyone was waiting at the sailor's home.

Gibbs picked up the bucket of paint sealer again; making sure his paintbrush was clean before dipping it in. Using broad horizontal strokes, Gibbs started sealing the port side of his boat.

"Hey Boss."

Gibbs huffed, "DiNozzo."

Gibbs didn't even have to raise his head now to guess that the man/ghost now occupying the bottom of his stairs was smirking at him.

"You know I would offer to help but, you know how that goes," Tony said a few moments later.

After finishing one board, Gibbs glanced up. Tony looked the same as he always looked when Gibbs saw him- hair slightly ruffled and wearing his weekend clothes consisting of jeans, tennis shoes, a t-shirt and his OSU letterman's jacket.

"You know it isn't winter anymore right?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony's wardrobe.

Tony just look down at himself, fixing the seam of the jacket before shrugging and looking back at Gibbs, "What's so wrong about being comfortable?"

In response, Gibbs just huffed. Even when Tony had really been here, there was no talking him out of wearing his letterman's jacket on his days off during the winter.

"Anyway," Tony said, still sitting down on the steps but shifting his position slightly, "You've been at this almost all night. Tough case?"

Gibbs just snorted his reply. He knew DiNozzo knew that he hated cases like these.

"Yeah," Tony sober voice rang out, reading Gibbs' thoughts, "These sort of cases suck."

"Yep," Gibbs said, giving Tony a fleeting glance before picking his paint brush back up and dipping it into the sealer.

"But you know," Gibbs heard as Tony stood, his footfalls making tiny echoes as he walked towards Gibbs and his boat, "At least the family-"

"Found out that their son was the victim of an awful hit and run accident? That after surviving three tours in the Middle East he comes back to the States and dies while changing his flat tire?" Gibbs stopped mid-stroke, looking at DiNozzo, cursing the fact that even this Ghost version of Tony was taller than him.

Instead of rising to the bait like Gibbs thought Tony was going to do, Tony's posture just seemed to fold in on itself, his back hunching slightly so that he was now eye to eye with Gibbs. Tony shrugged before speaking, "At least they found out what happened to him."

"And you think that's better?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow, setting the brush down, "Before we came to their house, they had hope DiNozzo. Hope that their son was just out with a friend, partying or traveling the country or some other stupid thing that young men sometimes do. They don't have that hope anymore Tony - it's dead. Their son's dead."

"And you think that's better Boss?" Tony said quietly, his voice the sound of a mouse compared to Gibbs' thundering yell, "You think it's better that they never found out what happen to their son?"

Gibbs didn't answer, his anger preventing him from speaking.

But Tony answered the question for him, "You know you don't think so. It's always better to know. That's why you investigate, why you try to help bring closure for those families," Tony held his breath for a moment before continuing, "This is because of me, isn't it Boss?"

"What if you're dead Tony?" Gibbs said, never one to beat around the bush, "I know to ask you to answer that question is useless, but what if you're dead Tony? What if that's why we can't find you? At least this way, I still have some hope that you're okay."

Tony shrugged, "Yeah, but you don't have the truth Boss. And you know as well as I do that the truth is better than that. It might hurt like hell, but it's better. You taught me that Boss. Don't go back on your word now."

"Yeah well," Gibbs looked at the side of the boat instead of Tony, "I promised to find you and I haven't. Seems I've been going back on my word a lot lately."

"You haven't broken a promise yet Boss," Gibbs heard Tony say.

"Yeah DiNozzo-" Gibbs started but stopped, glancing around.

Tony was gone.

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**A/N2: Hope you enjoed the chapter and if you did, tell me so. :) I love hearing from you guys and I try to respond to everyone (if I missed you, sorry. Know that I cherish every review!) **

**Also, for all those who live in the States, who else is looking foward to tomorrow's episode! :O**

**Next update should take take a bit longer to get up as I am traveling on a aeroplaaanne back to my home. :) I promise however, I will get this up before Saturday. Even if it is 11:59 Friday night my time. :) Thanks to all those who reviewed. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alrighty. First off, I absolutely LOVED Flesh and Blood. It rocked. Really.**

**Secondly, thanks to all those who read and have been reading and a big thanks and hug to all those who review. **

And to **Sam, **thanks so much for your review on both the last chapter of this story and of my other story, NonAlcoholic Beverages. :) I'm glad you're enjoying the story this far.

**On a final note, I am sadly, going back to school on Tuesday. :( Having said that, the next chapter should be going up Monday before the dreaded day of actually having to use my brain arrives. :) **

* * *

Chapter Five

Tim closed the door hard, regretting it immediately when it slammed shut. Probie, who had been sniffing his shoes and jeans, jumped and took a few steps back hesitantly, as if sensing his owner's foul mood.

Tim knelt down on one knee, calling his dog to him, "Sorry Probie," McGee rubbed Probie's head, letting his dog lick his arm slowly, as if Probie was trying to comfort him, "It's just been a long day."

Tim stood and headed over to the fridge, opening it to grab a beer. He almost never drank- because one, he couldn't handle his alcohol and two, he didn't think the hangovers were worth it - but he had decided on his way home that tonight would just be one of those nights where he drank.

Tim slipped out of his loafers and grabbed the remote to the television, before sitting down. Probie, who had been following Tim around the apartment, hopped onto the couch besides McGee, laying his head on Tim's lap.

Tim let his hand fall on Probie's head, his fingers playing with his dog's ears.

"You know," Tim said a few minutes after trying unsuccessfully to find something to take his mind off today, "Even now, you still are a pain in the ass."

Probie didn't move, instead he just adjusted his position so he was more comfortable.

"You could help you know," Tim said, taking another swing of his beer, "I mean, you go on and on about…everything, and yet you won't leave us a freaking clue so we can find you?"

Tony, who had been sitting on the seat adjacent to Tim and not responding to Tim's words so far, shrugged, "Tough case?"

Tim huffed, "Yeah."

Tony didn't say anything and since Tim didn't feel like looking, he had no idea what Tony was doing.

"You know," Tim said, stroking Probie's head, "I haven't seen you in almost a year and now, I see you twice in the same day. Why come back now?"

"I don't know," Tony said, his tone borderline blasé.

Tim, not able to resist any longer, turned and looked at his former partner, "Yeah, seems you don't know much of anything."

Tony frowned, "What's with the attitude Probie?" Tony leaned forward on his chair, his elbows balancing on his knees, "Every time I see you, you always seemed two notches away from a total meltdown."

"I wonder why," McGee said with more venom in his voice than he thought possible. Why was he acting this way? Why was he so angry at Tony? Even when he knew that Tony wasn't even the actual Tony at the moment?

"I don't mind," Tony smiled slightly.

"Don't mind what?" McGee quirked an eyebrow, his anger somewhat contained.

"I don't mind you taking it out on me," Tony answered, using his fingers to tap out a beat on his thighs, "Better me than someone else. At least, this is a lot less…damaging than when I needed to do to let off some steam."

Tim huffed in agreement, "Tony, last time I saw you seriously pissed off, you almost broke your hand hitting the punching bag. If Gibbs hadn't walked in…" McGee trailed off, remembering a case long ago. The victim had been a child, about five or six years of age, and none of them had been able to hold their lunch when they had arrived at the crime scene. Out of everyone, Tony had been the calmest, especially when they had finally arrested the father. It hadn't been until later on that week when McGee had watched Tony's anger seep through his façade.

"Glad you didn't get in my way, huh?" Tony said, smiling sadly, his eyes conveying real sadness.

"Um, yeah," Tim nodded in agreement. That day in the gym, McGee had seen a side of Tony that had honestly scared him. It had been as if a switch had been flipped somewhere in Tony's brain and when Gibbs had stepped in, trying to halt Tony's damaging movements, everyone had been shocked speechless when Tony had taken a swing at Gibbs.

McGee knew then, as he knew now sitting besides Ghost Tony, that if it had been him, if he had been the one who had tried to get Tony to stop, Tony would have seriously injured him. Or at the very least, knocked him out.

But Gibbs had almost seemed ready for it and had ducked. After that, Tony seemed to practically lunge at Gibbs and while Tony didn't go down quickly, after a minute's struggle, Tony had gone down. The moments afterwards had been tense until Gibbs had helped Tony back up, smacking him slightly on the head and telling him to go cool off.

It had been after that case that Tim caught both Tony and Gibbs sparring in the ring during down time. He had never asked Tony about it then and knew that Ghost Tony wouldn't, or couldn't, answer any questions about it.

"I guess you're right," McGee pulled out of the memory, "There are worse things I could do to blow off steam after a crappy case."

Tony just nodded, "Planning on eating anything with that beer?" Tony gestured to the bottle Tim held in his hands.

"Wasn't planning on it," Tim shrugged. He took another swing of the liquid, as if to show Tony he didn't really care about his opinion.

But instead, Tony just let out a small laugh, "Alright Probie. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Tim ignored that last comment, instead, standing to retrieve another bottle from the fridge.

"I would offer you one, but - well," Tim said, drinking his second beer a lot slower than the first, "You never answered my question."

"I recall saying something along the lines of, 'I don't know' but of course, I could be mistaken," Tony smirked, "But it seems I have been having some memory problems lately so in which case, let me answer that question for you: I don't know."

"Smart ass," Tim grumbled.

Tony laughed this time, "So what does that make you?"

Instead of answering, McGee just glared at the Italian, "You here to help then?"

Tony shook his head, "I don't know. Do you need help?"

"Yes," McGee said, the alcohol loosening his tongue, "We freaking need help. Wilson was in full shut down mode after telling the family about their son and Ziva was threatening to kill Gibbs for doing something like that to the new kid."

"But you handled it right?" Tony asked, "Contained and controlled?"

Tim sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his face, his exhaustion catching up with him, "It's not the same. I never thought I'd say this but I miss your stupid jokes and antics round the bullpen. It made cases like these a lot easier."

"There is a method to his madness," Tony smiled, one side of lips raising higher on his face than the other, "Glad you're finally catching on."

"This was a lot easier when I was _your_ Senior Field Agent," McGee said, "Heck; everything was a lot easier when you were here."

"Ah but such is life," Tony stood, rubbing his hands on his jeans, "You didn't expect me to hang around forever did you?"

McGee stood also, "I knew you were going to leave one day. You'd been with Gibbs the longest. You should have had your own team back then. I just…I just didn't expect you to leave this way."

Tony's shoulder dropped slightly, "Sorry Probie."

The response, after so many years working under Gibbs, was automatic, "Don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

"Yeah, normally," Tony nodded, agreeing with the statement. Tony paused for a few seconds, before continuing, "But friends don't mind that sort of thing."

"Tony," McGee reached out, even though he knew it wouldn't do him any good.

"See you around Probie," Tony said, somewhat sadly.

"Wait-" McGee said but in the blink of an eye, Tony was gone.

Probie whined from Tim's side, not knowing exactly why his master was talking to thin air.

Tim let out a deep breath, sitting down rather unsteadily, "After we find him boy, I'm going to give him hell for what he did."

Probie, who just gazed at Tim with his deep, brown soulful eyes, didn't seem to have any objections whatsoever with Tim's statement.

"After we find him," Tim repeated the statement to himself again. McGee let out a frustrated sigh and snagged his beer from the counter. Walking to the kitchen, Tim drained the beer down the sink and went to work getting Probie and himself some dinner.

* * *

**A/N: As always, tell me what you think. :) And for those of you who are begging to know what happened to Tony...well. You're just going to have to enjoy the ride.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I first would like to thank everyone for their reviews. :) **

**Next chapter should be up no later than this Sunday (depending on school work). :) Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Six

"Gear up."

"McGEE!"

"Yes Boss?" Tim lifted his forehead off his desk, jumping when Gibbs yelled his name. Tim hurried to wipe any drool that would be on his face before glancing around.

"I said gear up," Gibbs said again, his tone showing that he was particularly mad with Tim but also not very pleased with his Senior Field Agent's siesta.

"Sorry Boss," Tim stood, trying to shake off any last vestiges of sleep from his brain, "I'll get the car."

"Ziva's got it," Gibbs said, walking towards the elevator.

"Then I'll ge-"

"Wilson's getting Ducky," Gibbs cut off McGee mid-syllable.

"Um okay then I'll just," Tim looked around, trying to find something to grab, trying to find something to actually help.

"Get in the elevator with me," Gibbs finished Tim's sentence, "Hurry up McGee."

"Yes Boss," McGee stepped into the elevator, keeping his head down and his gaze away from Gibbs' searching stare.

_Please don't say anything, don't say anything,_ McGee kept up his silent chant, hoping Gibbs wouldn't say anything about his earlier snooze.

But feeling the jar of the elevator stop, Tim let out a small sigh. It just wasn't meant to be.

"Something wrong Boss?" Tim spoke first, hoping his denial would be enough.

"Yeah McGee, I'd say something's wrong," Gibbs responded, sarcasm heavily laden in his voice.

Instead of responding, McGee just bit his lip.

Raising an eyebrow at his Senior Field Agent's lack of response, Gibbs plowed ahead with the conversation.

"When I said I'd help you McGee, I meant it," Gibbs tapped Tim's chin lightly, making the agent meet his gaze, "But what you're doing McGee, staying up late in Abby's lab looking," Gibbs paused, searching for the right words to convey his emotions, "We're responding to a call McGee. We don't know anything yet. Things could go sour real quick and if you aren't up to par," Gibbs trailed off, knowing the Agent would understand.

McGee shook his head, "Boss I-"

But Gibbs just flipped the switch, turning the elevator back on.

Knowing that the conversation was officially over, McGee just looked back down at his shoes and shifted his backpack.

* * *

Everything hurt.

From his toes to the top of his head, everything felt like it no longer wanted to be connected to his body.

McGee shifted and wondered who was yelling. Whoever it was, someone should help them. They sounded hurt. McGee thought he should but something was wrong.

Tim tried to shift again but stopped when he heard that awful noise. He wanted to help but there was a fire in his gut that wasn't going away. It burned and reminded Tim off the time he had watched a man on TV consumed in flames, running down the street as everyone watch.

But Tim's survival instincts kicked in and Tim knew that the only way to put out a fire on oneself was "stop, drop and roll" and some part of Tim's brain screamed at him to roll over at put the freaking fire out **now!**

But another voice was there and McGee wondered if he should listen to it, should stop moving and open his eyes. Maybe it was the voice that had been hurting. Maybe someone had finally helped them.

The other voice was louder now and McGee gasped when the fire in his abdomen got worse. The voice called again but Tim ignored it.

The darkness was calling him and McGee decided that it hurt a lot less there.

So he followed it to oblivion.

* * *

Tim opened his eyes and looked around. Looking at his surroundings, McGee couldn't discern where he was exactly.

He was in a room. A blue room.

The room had a bed, which he was laying on, a nightstand and a large TV. Below the TV were tons of DVDs.

"_Start spreading the news….I'm leaving today…."_

"What the…" Tim stood, rather shakily, opening the door. Someone was singing. And if McGee didn't know any better…

Glancing down the hall, Tim look at the walls, hoping a picture or painting would be hanging from the walls. McGee still had no idea where idea he was but for some reason, he wasn't too worried about it. The place had a sense of safety around it and Tim knew that if he just stared long enough he should be able to….

"_These little town blues….Are melting away…"_

The hall ended, leading into a small living room. McGee continued walking, and even though McGee couldn't remember where he was, he felt as if he had stood in this exact spot many times before.

"_If I can make it there….I'll make it anywhere…It's up to you…"_

"Tony?" McGee breathed, walking into to a warm kitchen.

Tony, who had in fact been singing, paused and turned, smiling at him, "Nice of you to finally crawl out of bed McSleep-My-Life-Away."

"Tony, you…" Tim gaped at the man who was currently making something on the stove. Tony mixed something in the pot before donning a pair of gloves and sliding over to the oven, opening it to reveal a pan of garlic bread.

"What?" Tony turned, looking innocently at McGee, "What's up Probie?"

"You - you…" Tim shook his head, "You shouldn't be able to do - do that," McGee gestured towards the oven and stove, "You're in my head, you can't-"

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong Grasshopper," Tony laughed, turning off the stove before facing McGee, "I'm not in your head."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked.

Tony grimaced, "What's the last thing you remember Probie?"

McGee raised an eyebrow, at Tony's question but rubbed his face, racking his brain for anything…

"Me and Gibbs were in the elevator," McGee said, biting his lip, "He was worried because I've been really dragging my feet the last few days, haven't gotten much sleep…"

"Yeah," Tony said, gesturing for Tim to continue.

"And he told me I had to be careful," McGee said, "In not so many words."

Tony gave a small smile, though Tim could see it didn't reach his eyes.

Tim bit his lip again, a knot starting to form in his stomach, "Uh…um, then we went to a crime scene. I was collecting evidence, Wilson was sketching and Ziva was taking pictures. Gibbs was talking to Ducky but he had stepped out to go grab something from the truck. Um, I heard something in the back room and I went to go look…"

Tim trailed off. He had heard something fall, he remembered that much. He had walked through a dining room and an office before opening a door to…

"What happened next McGee?" Tony said, breaking Tim out of his thoughts, "What happened when you opened the door?"

"I don't…" Tim shook his head, sitting down on the nearest chair. Running his hands through his short hair, Tim continued to shake his head in frustration, "I don't know."

"Yeah you do Probie," Tony said, suddenly inches away from his face. He was kneeling down, eye level even with McGee's, "What happened when you opened the door?"

Tim opened his mouth to respond that he couldn't remember, when the memory slammed into him.

A man had been hiding in the closet and when Tim had opened the door-

"Oh my god," Tim whispered, remembering how it had felt trying to reach for his gun only to mumble and moments later feel a bullet collide with his abdomen, "Tony I-"

"McGee."

"No Tony," McGee stood suddenly, glancing around the kitchen, "I need-I need-"

"Probie-"

"Tony, am I dead?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here is the next chapter, as promised. Thank you to all those who reviewed. Sorry I couldn't respond to you personally, school is taking up alot of my time but I know how much everyone has been waiting for this chapter so here it is and it's one of the biggest chapters of this story! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Tony pulled up short from where he had presumably been reaching for Tim, "What?"

"Am I dead Tony? Because you're moving things and cooking and even though I was only in it a few times, I'm starting to think that this was your apartment right before you disappeared and-"

Tim stopped when Tony leaned forward and promptly smacked him upside the head. Gibbs would have been proud.

"Dude," Tony laughed, "You seriously have to chill. You start talking that fast and I'm not going to understand a word you say."

Tim, his hands still shaking, took a deep breath before speaking again, "Did I die Tony? Is that why I'm here?"

Tony's smile didn't waver, but an unidentified emotion passed over his eyes, gone before Tim could even take a guess at what it was, "You're not dead Probie."

At those words, Tim didn't know what to feel. Elated, of course, because he was still in the land of the living. But at the same time, something in McGee's gut churned because Tony had been able to answer that question even when Tim hadn't known the answer to it.

"How," Tim whispered, pausing because he didn't want to know the answer, didn't want to hear the words…

But Tony didn't answer. Instead, he just smiled that painful smile that McGee knew so well before turning around and picking up a piece of bread.

The next time Tony actually spoke, he wasn't facing McGee.

"You have to let me go."

"What?" Tim said, standing also, "What are you saying?"

Tony whirled and now anger was plastered all over his face, "You almost died Tim. You almost died because you were too tired and didn't reach your gun in time. And you were too tired because you had spent all night at Abby's computer looking for me again."

"Tony, don't," Tim tried to stop him. He didn't want to hear this, not now. He couldn't. After three years of looking for Tony…

"McGee," Tony sighed, shaking his head, "Listen to me. You guys - you, Gibbs, Ziva, Wilson and Abby - you guys are the best in the business in solving mysteries. You have one of the best closing rates in the country."

"So?" Tim said, even though he knew where Tony was going with this.

Tony sighed. He paused for a moment and Tim could tell the next words actually pained Tony to say, "If you could have found me Probie. You would have."

"So you're saying I should just give up?" Tim shouted angrily, knowing that it would be the only way to cover the wave of grief that suddenly washed over him, "Stop looking for you? Stop looking for your body?"

Tony tsked, "See, there you go again Probie. You're making it to where there are only two options. That's a fallacy you know. Not everything has to be between a rock and a hard place."

"What?" Tim said even more flustered, "What do you mean only -"

Tim was cut short when suddenly, it felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"There's a third option McGee," Tony said, helping Tim sit back down and making sure to keep a hand on his shoulder, "But you're not going to find it. And if you keep looking for it, it's going to kill you."

"Tony," Tim gasped, tears leaking out of his eyes because damn it, he couldn't tell if it was his gut or his heart that was hurting more, "Please…"

"Let me go Tim," Tony said sadly, "I never wanted you to end up like this."

"No…" Tim closed his eyes. His body was on fire. This - this…something was wrong. He -

"You have to McGee," Tony said sadly, "I don't want to see you dead McGee. Promise me."

"I can't…do - I can't," Tim was crying now. Everything was falling on him and he couldn't -

"Promise me McGee," Tony said, forcefully, lifting Tim's head so that they looking into each other's eyes, "Promise me."

And even though every fiber in Tim's being was yelling not to, Tim slowly nodded his head, "I promise."

Tony smiled then just as another wave of pain it McGee, "Alright Timmy. It's gonna be okay."

Tim shook his head, groaning in pain. It wasn't going to be okay. It was never going to be freaking okay again.

Tony chuckled, as if he could hear Tim's thoughts, "Yeah Probie. It is."

"And Tim?" Tim heard Tony's voice but it was far away now, "You don't always have to be the one finding things. Sometimes, you have to be found too."

Tim didn't have enough energy to understand or even remember those words but the last thing Tim felt for a long time was Tony's hand touching his belly and his head, taking his pain away.

* * *

Tim opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a room. A white room and somewhere in the surrounding area, someone was crying.

"Hey," A small, cool hand touched his fevered skin, "It's okay Timmy. It's okay."

Turning his head to get a better view, Tim slowly focused on the girl next to his bed.

"Ssshhh," the hand stroked his forehead, "It's going to be okay Tim."

"Abby?" Tim cried out, realizing in that moment that the person crying was himself, "Abby please-"

Tim's voiced was cracking but Abby continued to stroke his head, running her hands through his hair, "It's going to be alright Tim. I promise."

"He's gone Abby," Tim cried, trying to move only to have Abby place her hand on his chest.

"Who, Tim?" Abby asked, still petting his head.

"Tony's gone Abby," Tim continued to cry, not caring that the sobs added to the pain in his stomach, "And I promised I wouldn't - wouldn't -"

"Shush now," Abby leaned in a placed a cool kiss on his fevered skin. Seeing Tim this way made Abby's heart hurt. He was like a little brother away from home and she couldn't do anything but speak, hoping that it would make some difference, "It'll get better soon. Just sleep Timmy; I'll be here when you wake up again."

"Promise?" Tim's voice cracked on the word but he didn't try repeating himself, his energy slowly waning.

Abby smiled at him but McGee could see that it hurt, "I promise McGee. I'll be here."

And McGee closed his eyes again, knowing that the darkness would take his pain away.

* * *

Gibbs glanced up from where he was finishing the final touches on his boat's name. Someone was walking down his steps and based off the speed in which the person was descending, Gibbs knew it could only be one person.

"What are you doing here McGee?" Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow at his Senior Field Agent, "Abby catches you out of bed, much less in my basement, and she'll skin you alive."

McGee just shook his head, "I've been out of the hospital for almost three weeks Boss. The Doc said I could start moving around some. Besides, Abby's always been a bit overprotective."

"You almost died Tim," Gibbs said, giving a toned down version of his patent glare to his agent, "If Wilson hadn't of shot that petty officer, you would have been dead before any of us could have even gotten to you."

Tim had the decency to look embarrassed at least, "I know Boss. And I'm sorry."

Gibbs walked over and gave the younger man a gentle head slap, "What'd I say about saying sorry McGee?"

Tim, who didn't seem the least bit put off by the smack, smiled, "Alright Boss."

Gibbs briefly smiled before asking his next question, "So what are you doing here McGee?"

Tim sat down slowly, the area where the stitches had been still sore, "When I was in the hospital, I did some thinking."

"That so?" Gibbs asked, going back to working on his boat.

"Yeah," Tim continued, not minding the fact that Gibbs wasn't giving him his undivided attention. It was easier, for McGee at least, to say this while Gibbs wasn't staring at him, "And, I know…I mean I think -"

"Spit it out McGee," Gibbs said, keeping the chuckle out of his voice.

McGee sighed once before spitting it out, "I think I'm going to stop looking for Tony."

Gibbs paused for a fraction of a second, "I see," Gibbs said, setting down the toothbrush, popping his back as he turned and faced McGee, "What changed your mind?"

Tim shrugged, suddenly finding his shoes fascinating, "It's just," he sighed, "I almost died Boss. Things like that…they tend to put some stuff into perspective."

"Yeah, they do," Gibbs agreed, but when he didn't say anything else, Tim continued.

"And well," Tim scratched his head, "I - I spent years looking for Tony, Boss, I know you know that, but in those years, I - I haven't been doing much else."

"You got a dog," Gibbs replied gruffly.

"Yeah but," Tim shook his head, "While I love Probie, it isn't the same. I was dating people Boss, before Tony disappeared. I mean, I looked up to Tony and everything, he was a great agent, but I could never see myself living in an apartment for the rest of my life. I don't want that. I _want_ the house, the wife and the 2.5 kids or whatever the average number is right now. And when I was laying there in that bed Boss, I realized that in the last three years, I haven't once, **once**gone somewhere with someone other than the people on our team. If I had died right then Boss, I never would have gotten married or had a kid. I never would have even owned a home for goodness sakes."

Tim looked at Gibbs but Gibbs just stared, silently beckoning for McGee to continue.

"And I know Tony was my friend," Tim rubbed the back of his head nervously, "But I can't - I won't waste my life looking Boss. He wouldn't - Tony wouldn't have liked that. Wherever he is, whatever happened..." Tim paused, looking around the room before finishing his sentence, "He wouldn't have wanted this for me Boss."

Gibbs nodded, walking around his boat slowly, digesting what Tim had just spilled out.

"Okay McGee," Gibbs slowly nodded, seeming to come to his own decision, "Now get over here and help me with this last part."

Tim stood, a bit shocked at Gibbs acceptance of all he had to say, but deciding that he had known all along that his Boss would support his decision, no matter what.

"You named you boat…" Tim trailed off, lifting one hand to trace over the letters that were already dry.

"Figured it was appropriate," Gibbs smiled, before tossing a brace at McGee's chest, "Now hold this steady. This last letter is always a pain in my ass to paint."

Smiling, Tim did as he was told.

**Finding:** _to locate, attain, or obtain by search or effort; to recover something lost or misplaced_

**Symphony:** _Something characterized by a harmonious combination of elements._

**_Fin_**

* * *

**A/N: I know. *dodges tomatoes, grapes and....watermelons! O.o'* But, if I must say one thing before I go hide away from flying healthy food.....**

**The next story will be up as soon as I recieve the first chapter back from my beta. And I promise. The next story...well. You'll like the next story. :) **

**Thanks to all who reviewed and thanks to all those who lurk (I do it myself so who am I to judge) and also, thanks to my beta and...um....thanks....nope. That's about everyone. lol (This is what happens when you write a A/N while watching the SAG awards...)**

**Be on the lookout for the next story I post, The Shaping Melody. And as to why all the names have a musical component in them...well, I'll let you figure out why. :)**

**Till next time!**

**Oh and btw, a sneak preview to those who guess the name of Gibbs' boat. :) **


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